


Past

by valentino



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe: Early Meeting, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Past, Tension, cardinal!Cesare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:00:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valentino/pseuds/valentino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cesare's tiny grin was contagious, because Ezio found himself smiling back, if only slightly, and bowing his head in a comprehending nod.<br/>“Ezio,” the assassin stated quietly, “You can call me Ezio. A pleasure to meet you, Cesare.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote when I attempted to do 50_darkfics on LJ for my own pleasure, though this was the only one I did. Prompt #32; "Past"  
> Here's an alternate version of Cesare and Ezio's first meeting in which Cesare is a pretty, sassy young cardinal and Ezio thinks he's endearing.

The violent scene at Mario's villa wasn't actually the first time the two met. Not many knew, and Ezio had not intention of telling them, but his first taste of Cesare Borgia had been quite a few years earlier- Cesare must not have been more than sixteen years old, Ezio himself then thirty-two and some months. The assassin had been tailing the patriarchal Rodrigo as always, and he quickly found himself in much closer quarters with the intimidating Borgias than he usually was. Close enough quarters to hear the padded footsteps and hushed whispers of cardinals and priests that constantly bounced through the large, ornate hallways of the important buildings in Rome.

It was only when Cardinal Borgia and his colleagues left that Ezio noticed the silence around him becoming overbearing. It was more than the silence an assassin brought with him; a silence that gave warning that someone was following him. A spy being spied on wasn't anything new in this line of work, but the sheer fact that it took Ezio so long to notice gave him an uneasy feeling.

He turned quickly, barely able to flick his wrist up to eject his blade when the young Spaniard spoke, the boy's dark eyebrows furrowed together in a confused, yet visibly amused expression.

“I would ask if you are lost, but you seem to know your way around here well enough,” he started, lips taking on a polite smile. “I can't believe you didn't notice me. I was watching you since you entered the building.” A small laugh. “A strange way to do so, as well, if it is not rude of me to say. Children climbing trees is one thing, but a grown man hopping from columns and rafters? Interesting, and impressive.”

By now, Ezio had (as discreetly as he could) retracted his blade and crossed his arms, hiding the bladed bracer underneath his opposite arm. He studied the boy in front of him for a minutes, trying to figure just how a teenager fitted into such a serious setting. He wasn't an assistant or servant, his clothing said that much, at least.

“Ah, but perhaps it is more rude of my to engage a stranger in conversation without an introduction.” He bowed slightly, hands pressed into a praying steeple for a moment. “My name is Cesare. I'm here away from school, visiting my father- a cardinal.”

Cesare's tiny grin was contagious, because Ezio found himself smiling back, if only slightly, and bowing his head in a comprehending nod.

“Ezio,” the assassin stated quietly, “You can call me Ezio. A pleasure to meet you, Cesare.” The thought of _'just why does a cardinal have a son?'_ crossed his mind briefly, but he didn't dwell on it much, and at this point, the possibility of this boy being one of the mysterious and rarely-seen Borgia children didn't touch his imagination.

“Ezio, then,” Cesare nodded in response, “And it is my pleasure as well.” Cesare was regal beyond his years, even if Ezio couldn't quite place what age the boy was. Fifteen? Sixteen? No way was he any older than seventeen at the most. Regardless, Ezio knew he wasn't quite as elegant as this teen was when he was that age. Cesare carried books in his arms and spoke eloquently, politely. Ezio was more suited to whistling at girls and slacking off on his studies.

There was something captivating about Cesare's appearance, too... his expressions were too enigmatic. His eyes were blue and fiery, despite the calm voice and straight face. And it was easy to see Cesare was studying Ezio's face just as intently in return. An attentive student, this one was.

They didn't exchange more than a few words of small talk that day, and neither came away learning the other's last names. For the a good portion of the two years after, they remembered each other as simply Ezio and Cesare, not the prodigal sons of the Auditore and Borgia houses.

* * *

It was a short and busy two years- the next time they met, Cesare was eighteen, and Ezio had finally figured out that the student that had introduced himself as simply Cesare was, in fact, Cesare _Borgia_ , the eldest son of Ezio's primary target.

Rodrigo Borgia had since taken on the title of Pope Alexander, and Cesare was promptly raised to the position of Cardinal of Valencia. Ezio attended both ceremonies in secret, rolling his eyes upon seeing Cesare in the group of cardinals-in-waiting at the Pope's feet. Of course the old bastard would promote his own sons to cardinal and general. But, as upset as he was, he tried not to light any fires of anger at Cesare or his brother. It wasn't their choosing to be born to such a tyrant... and the magnetic eyes and unreadable grin that Cesare possessed made it hard for Ezio to feel anything other than _morbid attraction_ to the young cleric. He wanted to figure out how his mind worked, and his need to know only worsened when he discovered the relation between the innocent student he met and the target Ezio had been after for numerous years.

Once again, Cesare caught Ezio off guard. The assassin was preparing to make his leave after nearly three days and three nights worth of tracking and information-gathering when that voice called him from behind.

“Ezio!” he was louder this time, excited, and right now, there was enough commotion in the opposite wing of the massive church that there was little fear of someone finding them.

“Don't pretend you don't see me. I may have tricked you the first time we met, but I'm sure you are the type to learn from your mistakes.” Cesare didn't hesitate to approach Ezio, placing one of his hands on the older man's shoulder. “And don't think I've forgotten about you either! Such an unusual fashion sense, and your ducking in-between walls and windows, I could never forget that.”

Cesare was clad in red now, a stark contrast to the blacks he wore two years ago. It looked nice, Ezio concluded, if perhaps a bit too mature and constricting for someone so young. The crimson offset his pale skin and made the freckles across his skin more noticeable. In just two short years he _looked_ older though, cheekbones more defined by the slight beginnings of a beard, no doubt one that looked thicker than it really was due to the dark color of his hair.

But that fire in his eyes never left. Ezio had trouble meeting the young man's gaze as they chatted well into the night. It was as if what he saw in them made every one of his red flags go up. It was a ferocity, some ambitious quality that been unwillingly subdued by the noose around his neck in the form of a cross.

The worried thought stuck with Ezio for a long time, even after he had left Rome (and Cesare) for months. He'd stay up for hours trying to recall and decipher every glance and word Cesare tossed him, to crack what could be laying beyond the new cardinal's exterior.

Once or twice he seriously considered the fact that it may be hatred, for his father or otherwise. And he pondered even longer on what he could do, should Cesare indeed feel so rebellious. A notion that maybe, with careful advancement, Ezio could persuade Cesare to join his side of the war. There was a definite potential for power in Cesare's blue eyes, the way he carried and asserted himself only reinforcing his intelligence and wit.

It took months of planning, and even more months of hesitating, but finally Ezio made a firm decision to try and appeal to Cesare. He soon found himself riding back to Rome, alone and with minimal notice to the rest of his allies. He simply said he needed to attend some business towards the south, and he'd be back in less than a week.

He couldn't really say why he wished to keep his mission such a secret. The thought of recruiting (or at the very least, kidnapping) a Borgia son surely would have been approved by most of the Brotherhood. But Cesare was a challenge Ezio wanted to take on his own. The cardinal would cast away his red and gold in favor of the assassin white, as Ezio himself did, and Cesare would be his own student. No one else would be fit to train such a complex being in his mind.

Ezio was selfish, that much he knew. But the idea of someone else taking the opportunity- _his_ opportunity- to train Cesare made him _jealous_. His plan was barely starting and already the thought of someone else taking his would-be pride, taking his Cesare under their wing... no, he'd snatch the Borgia son up for himself before anyone else even learned the boy's name.

So traveled quickly, sheer apprehension and excitement keeping him awake even with minimal sleep. And if it wasn't nervous shaking that kept him up, it was the memory of those blue eyes and that young, wolfish grin that kept him hopeful.

* * *

“No.” Ezio snorted at the answer, one eyebrow cocked up and his jaw hanging open. Perhaps Cesare didn't understand the proposition, so he asked again.

“You do know what I'm offering you, right?” He walked over to the desk Cesare sat at. The cardinal looked more interested in the papers he was writing on than the assassin who'd just put his hands on the desk across from him. He leaned forwards, balancing his weight against the heavy piece of furniture. “I doubt you're thrilled to follow your father's footsteps in the cloth, and I'm giving you a way out- a highly sought after one, too! Do you know how many people are trying for my personal attention?”

Cesare finally looked up, eyebrows raised and eyes half-lidded in a way tat made him seem (to Ezio's offense) rather annoyed.

“And do _you_ know how conceited that makes you sound?” The teen pushed his chair out and leaved back, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. And he _laughed_.

“I don't see why you are so anxious to hire me, either,” he remarked, tossing his wrist about nonchalantly.

Ezio stiffened at that. He had been betting everything that Cesare would've agreed right from the get-go. Maybe with some ' _but what if my father catches you?!_ ' worries, but that wasn't anything he wouldn't handle. Really, though, he should have learned by now. He was nearly forty and his over-confidence still kicked him in the ass more often than he'd like to admit. He quickly threw together a response in his mind, something that wasn't quite the whole truth, but would do just as well.

“You know where I stand against your father. He's probably keeping more of the story from you, but you must know his people and mine are not friends,” sounded good enough so far, “And we have only met a few times, but I can tell how smart you are, Cesare. Maybe I'm acting selfishly, but I can see you're trapped here, and I want you on my side.” He by now had taken a few steps around to stand next to Cesare's chair, one hand on the back of it as he leaned down, closer to eye-level with the boy.

Cesare rolled his head back, looking up at how Ezio loomed above him- such a demanding stance. In that moment Ezio finally realized how close he was leaning down, Cesare's nose nearly bumping his as he looked upwards. Cesare seemed to notice too, his wide eyes shifting about all over Ezio's face- the assassin now wishing he hadn't taken his hood down when he entered- until they settled on one spot. But he smiled, an amused grin with his lips ever so slightly open- _perfect, he was fucking perfect_ \- and he gave Ezio the tiniest kiss he'd ever received. One on the cheek, more of greeting and thanks than anything with feeling.

“I appreciate the offer. I does sound exciting, and I can't say I enjoy it here by any means... but my place is neither here nor there.” Cesare sighed, eyes returning to that ever-shifting state. “The reason why I dislike it here is because my father raised me to the cloth. If I were to go with you, it would end up the same way.”

Ezio opened his mouth to protest, but Cesare stopped his words by pressing his fingertips to Ezio's mouth. “I want to forge my own path.”

So the assassin nodded, lips quivering once as he debated kissing those fingers before they were pulled away.

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes after. Ezio wanted to argue further, but something kept him subdued. Ezio would later come to think of it as some feeling of respect, but at the time he simply couldn't bear to have Cesare mad at him for trying to force anything.

“Another day then,” Cesare finally said, standing up and taking Ezio's hand in his. “I have a feeling we'll meet under other conditions someday. Perhaps once my father is dead and I can take off this cross in favor of my own aspirations.”

The assassin nodded again, staying quiet while he bowed slightly and brought Cesare's fingers to his lips. A small kiss and a squeeze in his palm for a sincere goodbye, accompanied by just a few words.

“Another day.” He agreed, stepping backwards and lifting his hood back up. “Good luck in finding those dreams.” He gave a slight smile, one that Cesare enthusiastically returned, before hopping out the window and carefully climbing down the outside wall.

Another few years and they would indeed meet again, and Ezio would soon come to regret being so hopeful for his ambitious friend.

**Author's Note:**

> *any flubs in AC canon are the liberties I've taken to repair the poor portrayal and screwy timeline of the Borgias in AC's canon.


End file.
